


An Infrequent Arrangement

by B1nary_S0lo



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullavellan Christmas, Elf/Human Relationship(s), F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Pre-Trespasser, Secret Santa, Skyhold, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 21:09:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8939395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B1nary_S0lo/pseuds/B1nary_S0lo
Summary: Written for ariiadne for Cullavellan Christmas. Ora'ana Lavellan belongs to them.Whenever Ora leaves Skyhold to gather herbs, Cullen accompanies her.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ariiadne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariiadne/gifts).



On that first day when Cullen and Ora’ana met at the gates of Skyhold, the sun had only just begun to light the sky and the air was still crisp and cold. He arrived a bit before her, and was standing with his arms crossed when she hurried over. Her brows were knit in embarrassment and apology.

“I’m sorry. I hope you didn’t wait long.”

“No, not at all.”

Their walk out of the gates was silent, no sound aside from the crunch of boots on snow and choruses of morning birds. Occasionally, she glanced up at him, or him down at her, but never at the same moment. Despite having worked together for months now, they hadn’t spent much time one on one. Ora wondered what he was thinking, worried he was irritated that she took up his time with what she merely intended to be an escape for herself.

His worry was of a different kind. He was alert, wary of any potential for attack, but also, as had become increasingly common lately, alert to her movements. Part of him chided himself, even now. He should never have agreed to this. It was far too risky, and perhaps even frivolous, but he couldn’t say no to her, not when she looked at him with those tired, somehow still bright eyes. Not when she asked so politely in her quiet yet strong way.

When they’d gone a fair distance, she brought them to a stop. She turned, small, grateful smile on her face.

“Here should be fine,” she said. “If you don’t mind…?”

He nodded. “Of course not.”

He stood still in the snow and watched her walk away. He waited, breath a mist in the cold as he kept a wary but distant eye on her.

She hurried more than usual as she moved to gather Elfroot buds and Embrium blossoms, unable to fully relax when she knew he was waiting in the cold. Still, the mountain air, the feeling of leaves beneath her fingers, and the quiet calmed her in a way that nothing else had since Haven. Silently, she wished him thanks.

Before long she was heading back, bag full, out of breath, and an apology for keeping him waiting on her lips. But he brushed it off. She couldn’t know that he would gladly have waited in the snow for her much longer. It was, after all, no less than what she’d once done for him.

 

The second time they went out it was easier. It had been months since the first outing, and their awkwardness had thawed a bit, even if the ice and snow hadn’t. Though he still hung back, rooted, for the most part, to his stationary spot, she also called him over on occasion to point out a rare find, or even to jest.

“You’re lucky I don’t make you tea from this one,” she said, pointing out some Arbor Blessing growing on the underside of a cliff face. “It tastes much worse than Elfroot, though I’m told the leaves provide more accurate readings.” Her smile was mischievous. “If you’re interested—”

He grinned. “An intriguing proposition, but I’ll pass.”

Occasionally, he left his spot of his own volition—cautiously—to ask a question or two of his own. What was that reddish plant with all the vines called? Did the bright green one growing in the shadow of the mountain have any uses? He asked, not so much because he wanted to know, but because he wanted to hear her explain. Wanted, more than anything, just to listen to her voice.

It was with mutual disappointment that, much later, they both trudged back to Skyhold. Disappointed, but refreshed in a way neither of them had been in months.

 

The arrangement continued, albeit still infrequently, and each time there was more of a comforting routine to it. They knew which spots to head for first, which were the quietest, and which the most lush. They knew when it was best not to speak, and when they needed words to fill the silences. Later still, they’d sometimes take hands once they were far enough from Skyhold. As they walked there would be nothing but the mountain sounds and the feel of the other’s hand in theirs, somehow still warm through their gloves.

Sometimes she gathered the herbs alone, and sometimes he helped her. Especially later on, there would be days when he’d spy a flash of sickly green through her gloves, when her hands would shake. He would hurry over, not so fast as to cause alarm, and pick up whatever buds she might have dropped in the snow, or even pluck the leaves of the next herb for her. She’d respond with a grateful smile, and her fingers would linger over his as he passed the plants to her.

When they headed back her pouch was always full to brimming. They walked arm in arm, her head half resting on his shoulder as they made their way toward Skyhold.


End file.
